


Fucking the mirror

by Lafoga



Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Bondage, Branding, Breathplay, Captivity, Forced Masturbation, Gaslighting, M/M, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24897133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafoga/pseuds/Lafoga
Summary: Frank is going back in time to find Claire. Unfortunately Jack does find him and starts having fun with him - fun for Jack, not for Frank."He once raped Claire’s first husband and now he was doing the same to her second one. It was a thought that made his blood flow into his lap again."
Relationships: Jonathan "Black Jack" Randall/ Frank Randall
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Fucking the mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [within_a_dream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/gifts), [villaindecay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/villaindecay/gifts).



> Jack did survive in Culloden. The story is taking place two years after Claire returned to Frank.
> 
> Thanks to Annvian for betareading.

He had been so patient with her, ignored all the times she daydreamed of Jaime, while she was lying in their shared bed beside him, Frank. He did so much to make her happy, to enjoy the time with him, but she always got depressed again afterwards, didn’t eat anymore, stopped talking and laughing. And he said nothing, only did all the best he could for her. It was never enough.

He only had one condition, he only begged her not to search for Jaime anymore. But she didn’t conform to it; she found him. He wasn’t dead. He was still alive, probably in prison. And so she went back to find him. Frank didn’t know what she wanted to do to free him, but one day she had vanished. She only left a letter, explaining she was going to go back through the stones, taking the two-year-old Brienna with her.

He was shocked. He thought they would be together forever, he would raise hers and Jaime’s daughter as if it was his own. He couldn’t let them go.

He didn’t take much time to prepare. He had few opportunities, it was hard to find proper clothes. He found some in theatrical requisites, hardly fitting together. Some looked like from a farmer in the early 1700s, some seemed to fit for a nobleman living twenty years later than the time he would visit. But it didn’t matter now. He dressed and took one of Claire’s precious necklaces with an amethyst to sell it in earlier Scotland.

This time he felt the humming and the vibrations of the huge stones. He didn’t look back before touching them.

There he was. He didn’t see any difference, only the same beautiful Scottish countryside he loved that much. But he felt that it worked, somehow it smelled different, purer.

He knew where to go and it took him little time to arrive in Inverness. He already recognised the amethyst was gone, but he didn’t care. He went right into a tavern with some handmade portraits of Claire he had made in hands.

Black Jack Randall didn’t like Scotland quite much, but he liked that tavern. He was sitting at his favourite table in the back of the room, deep in the shadows. If people didn’t knew he was there they didn’t recognise him, nevertheless he had a great view over most people here. He looked into the bowl of soup in front of him, when he heard someone saying the names “Claire” and “Jaime Fraser”. He looked up and saw a man at the bar, showing a sheet of paper with a portrait on it. He only saw the man from behind, he didn’t know him, even though he seemed somehow familiar to him. Hadn’t he seen that hair before, hadn’t he heard a voice like this before? He couldn’t associate. That man wore strange clothes, a mixture of all kinds of styles, that made him look like an insane or an outlaw.

Jack also was interested to find Jaime. Both had almost died in the battle of Culloden, but both of them had survived. It took some time until Jack had recovered, but now he was Captain of the British Empire again.

Nobody here had seen that woman. The stranger turned around, an unsatisfied look on his face, looking for a place to sit down. Now Jack recognised where he knew him from: his own mirror image. The man’s face looked like his own one; he had the same walk, same voice. Jack felt strange and curious. Who was that man and what did he have to do with Claire and Jaime? He hid even deeper in the shadows and waited.

The stranger took his time to leave the tavern. It was already dark outside, so it was easy to follow him unseen. He didn’t seem to know where to go, so they ended in a dark alley. Jack took the opportunity and sneaked from behind, a gun in one hand, a cloth in the other one. He put the cloth on the stranger’s mouth and the gun on his back always simultaneously. The scream was suppressed by the cloth.

Frank felt miserable. He hadn’t really thought about what to do when he was here, had no money and nowhere to go or sleep. He had stayed as long as possible in the warm tavern before leaving and stray around. He shouldn’t have been surprised when he got kidnapped. He panicked when he felt the cold sharp blade on his throat. The scream got suppressed by the perfumed cloth, so he didn’t try to scream again. He kicked back with his foot to hit the stranger’s balls, but it didn’t. He heard his attacker laugh, right before he lifted the blade to turn Frank around. A blink later Frank felt his right eye being hit – he knew it would become deep blue. A moment later he felt a fist hitting his nose, making a crackling sound. He tasted blood running down to his mouth. When the attacker kicked into his knees from behind, he fell down. He did nothing but cover his head, while he got kicked from every direction. His head hurt extremely, his skin was warm and bleeding, his lap felt wet and warm from his own piss. He had been a spy back in World War II, but he lost his reflexes and coolness during the years of being historian.

After what seemed hours the stranger stopped kicking him. He took him by his collar to lift him up. Frank could hardly stand, trembling uncontrolledly, and when the attacker started walking he stumbled every few steps. He felt a cold ratchet in his back that gave him goose skin. He knew that situation, it felt much like when he was a spy, surviving just by luck. The person behind him led him through dark alleys, before he opened an unobtrusive door into a dark basement. Frank almost fell down the stairs as he was pushed.

He heard the key be used and turned around to see his torturer. His heart nearly stopped beating. The man in front of him looked all the same as he. First he thought he got insane but he remembered Claire talking about one of his ancestors, Jack Black Randall, that looked like his own mirror image. She had told him that he was an evil man who loved hurting people. A moment of horror came over him. He went backwards until he felt something in his back. There was nowhere to go and no other door as far as he could see from here.

Jack brought the man right into the basement they had for unofficial irregular questionings. The man made it easy for him, he didn’t defend himself or scream again; at least not yet.

Jack gave him a moment to look around. He could see a heavy wooden table with two chairs, a small iron cage and a wood-made cross with chains for wrists and feet. Jack lighted some of the torches.

The stranger had retreated and was now right there where he wanted him. He pushed him against the wooden cross and took his hands to lock them above his head. The stranger didn’t defend himself at all. Jack also locked his ankles.

He turned around to go to a small sideboard, covered with all the things people needed to get answers from someone who didn’t want to talk: various whips, branding irons, chains, blades, thumbscrews, mouth prop, ropes and an iron-made instrument he didn’t recognise.

He took one of the smaller whips to start and turned around again to look at his victim. That man was beautiful, the most beautiful person he had ever seen, except for Jamie and himself, but that person almost was himself. He was gorgeous and extremely sexy, even more as he was chained and immobile. Jack had had lots of men and women in his bed and he enjoyed most of these encounters, but having someone captivated and helpless made him even hornier. He was going to ravish that man, but it was important to get information about him, no matter how.

He slowly swung the whip in his hand, feeling the touch of its soft ropes between his fingers. It reminded him of other situations, especially of Jamie. He enjoyed whipping him so much, but he would never forget how he entered his hole for the first time.

Jack shook his head to wave these memories away. He had business to do. He suddenly felt his dick growing bigger and getting rigid, pushing against his trousers. He didn’t want to be aroused, that wasn’t the right moment. He saw the stranger’s look filled with horror, his eyes at Jack’s lap. That was too much. Jack couldn’t stand that longer.

He laid down the whip again, there was no need for it right now, and took some ropes instead. He went over to the man rapidly, the fearful look in his eyes arousing him even more. He unlocked the feet and wrists to turn him over.

Frank was too overwhelmed to even think about what to do. He felt paralyzed; he didn’t really understand what was happening. One blink later he was in chains and he knew that was the moment every hope was gone.

When Jack went over to him to open his chains, he knew it was his last chance to escape. He waited for the right moment to kick Jack right into his swelling, but Jack was alerted. He wasn’t surprised, and not amused either. Jack punched him right into his face, leaving his nose crooked, apparently fractured. Frank felt the warmth of thick blood flowing from his nose. A moment later he passed out.

Jack liked it when his victims defended themselves. It made the whole thing even more interesting. As the stranger was unconscious, it was easier to captivate him. He shackled his wrists at his ankles in a way that didn’t look quite comfortable. The stranger was now laying face-down on the table, his butt at the edge of it, still clothed.

Jack went over to take a bucket of water to wake up the man. He wanted to hear him cry and scream. He poured the water above the bleeding head. The stranger looked around as good as he could, seeming disorientated, before he remembered where he was. He tried to free his hands and feet, but couldn’t move.

Jack looked right into his face, a nasty grin on his lips, before he gave him a wet kiss on his lips. “Enjoy it.” He said to him. Then he went behind him. As he couldn’t open the waistband in front of the trousers, he just cut the back of it. He had the stranger’s butt in front of him, the glutes spread wide open, the narrow hole right in front of him. His erection now was hurting against his trousers, so he freed it. It stood strong and long in front of him, the tip pointing into the direction it wanted to go.

Frank woke up, water dripping down his face. He now lay bottom-down the table, wrists and ankles fixed so he couldn’t move. He knew what was going to happen; he knew stories about people like Jack, homosexuals. He had learned what to do when he was in such a situation but he couldn’t remember. Panic was overwhelming his brain, he felt paralyzed.

He heard Jack spitting behind his back, a second later his fingers touched his buttocks to stretch them wide open. Then he felt Jacks cock entering his narrow hole, slowly at first. Frank hadn’t expected it would hurt that much. He automatically tensed his muscles what made it even more painful. He fought not to cry. “Mmh, so tight.” He heard Jack say before he heavily thrusted his penis inside his asshole. Frank started sobbing, feeling a heat of shame at his forehead. Jack pulled his cock off just to thrust it inside again, again and again, groaning loudly. Frank had never felt that nauseated before, he wished he could just disappear. His face was wet from the water and salty from his tears and sticky from the blood from his nose.

Jack didn’t take long, he didn’t have a butt for months and needed only a few minutes to come. He closed his eyes and groaned loudly, feeling his penis convulse before softening. He released it and put on his trousers again. Sperm and blood was slowly dripping from the stranger’s dark red hole.

Jack regretted to have fucked his victim so fast, that made him seem uncontrolled and voluptuous. He still didn’t know who that person was. He may have even been a relative of him, perhaps a sibling he didn’t get to know. The thought of that did arouse him even more. “Enough of that!” he chided himself silently; “There is investigation to be done!”

He went to the stranger’s head and put a stool in front of it so the man had to look right into his tormentor’s face. His eyes were red from crying, his expression showing a mixture of horror and defiance. It wouldn’t be hard to make him scream, but hard to make him abandon.

“Who are you?” he asked softly, almost whispering.

The stranger didn’t answer, he didn’t even blink.

“Tell me. One way or another, I well get a response from you!”

Frank didn’t answer. He had no clue how to explain what happened. And even if he would Jack wouldn’t believe a single word. He knew he had to say anything, but his head felt numb, as if it was filled with black wobbling slime. He tried to find any explanation, anything that would sound reasonable.

He felt Jacks huge hand around his throat, his fingers clutch so he couldn’t breathe. Panic rose again in his head, he felt his heart beat faster as his lungs longed for air. His view began to darken; he tried to shake his head to shake off the hands. Just the moment his view went totally black Jack released his throat. He loudly gasped for air, closed his eyes and felt the cold stagnant air filling his lungs.

He didn’t hear it coming, he just felt the whip when it hit his still naked butt. A surprised scream came from his throat just the moment the whip hit him another time, now even harder. He tensed his muscles automatically but it didn’t help at all. Jack hit him again, several times, getting into a rhythm of loud smacks. Frank felt as if his skin was burning. He imagined how he must looking – humiliated, his bottom naked and dark red, all his pride gone. He couldn’t help but sob.

That was the moment Jack stopped. He lay down the whip right in front of Frank’s face and went down to him again.

“You know it won’t stop, don’t you?” he asked. “I mean, I have plenty of time – and equipment, if you know what I mean.” He grinned.

“I… I am… I am your good mirror image.” The stranger stuttered. “I am here… here to…” He fell silent. “I was sent by Madame Blanche to punish you!”

Claire had told Frank that Jack had horror of all supernatural things. It wasn’t very creative but perhaps it would help.

It didn’t.

Jack burst out laughing. “Punish? Me? Well, looking at you, it seems it’s me punishing you, don’t you think?”

He tried to look confident, but inside of him he felt a beginning horror. What if he was talking the truth? No, no, this was impossible by all means. Such things as “good mirror images” didn’t exist, didn’t they? That must be a lie and he was going to get the truth. He felt anger coming up his throat, overwhelming because of what trouble Claire had get him into. That man must have a relationship to her, no matter what kind. He took the ropes and released the man, knowing he still was too weak to defend himself. He took the man at his neck and raised him. The stranger almost fell down, so Jack had to hold him up. He pulled him to the wooden cross and chained his wrists and ankles. The man could hardly hold himself upright so he heavily fell into his chains. Jack opened the man’s shirt. He had white and healthy skin and some muscles underneath it.

“Come on, give me something. How about your name? You must have a name, don’t you?”

Frank could hardly stand. The chains on his wrists were cold and cut into his skin that was already wounded by the ropes. His name. Yes, that was possible. He could tell his name, the man wouldn’t know… Well, he knew his last name. He would have to take another one, but he couldn’t think.

“Frank Beauchamp.”

That was stupid. He didn’t know why he had said that, but he couldn’t think of any name other than that.

Jack looked at him, thinking. “Beauchamp? Like Claire? Who are you?”

Frank wouldn’t say any more. It was bad to be here and it would get even worse if he told him he was married to Jack’s villain. He saw Jack getting angry as he didn’t answer. “WHO ARE YOU?” he shouted, slightly spitting at him. A second later his flat hand hit his face from the left, next moment back from the right. Frank was too surprised to breathe, he just noticed after another two slaps hit him. His face now felt warm and swollen. Jack’s anger seemed to have gone. He breathed deeply and looked at Frank who still didn’t answer.

Jack felt confused. Here was that man that looked all like him, wearing the strangest clothes and telling him his name was Beauchamp. Nothing of that made sense.

He needed a moment to think. He took a dusty bottle of rum standing in one of the corners and took a deep sip. He felt the fluid stream down his throat. Perhaps it might help to make Frank speak. He went over to him and made him drink too. Frank must have been thirsty; he took deep sips as if he didn’t drink for hours, rum floating down his chin. The rum was normally used to clean wounds, but he didn’t care and made Frank drink half of the bottle.

Jack sat down at a chair to wait for the alcohol to work.

Frank didn’t like alcohol very much. He didn’t like the feeling of losing control. But now it would be the best he could do. Perhaps it would fade the pain. Or he would lose consciousness. He must have drunken half the bottle when Jack took it away.

Jack let him alone with his thoughts, hanging in his chains, his legs still too weak to make him stand. He slowly felt his brain getting numb, felt the pain in his body floating away. He felt the situation getting more and more unrealistic, it felt like a bad dream. He thought about what to do. Why didn’t he tell the truth? Perhaps Jack would understand it. It couldn’t get any worse than it was right now, could it?

When Jack felt his brain getting lighter, he knew the alcohol must be affecting Frank, too. He went over to him again and looked into his watery absent eyes. He caressed his cheeks. Frank looked at him, his eyes didn’t show horror anymore, he almost looked confident.

“Come on, Frank, let’s be friends and tell me, who you are and what you are doing here!” he said to him.

Frank nodded. “I am Frank Randall, born in the year 1906 in England. I am married to Claire Randall that you might know as Claire Beauchamp or Claire Fraser. She went back into your time through a stone-circle. Well, she went back twice, but this time I followed her. She is my wife, not the wife of that Scotsman Jamie.” He said fast, hardly breathing.

Jack looked at Frank, thinking. Was he kidding him or did he really tell the truth? He once talked to a woman that told him something about time-travel and stone circles. He made her burn as a witch even though he didn’t know if she was telling the truth.

“So you’re a Randall?” he asked.

“Yes. Randall. Your descendent. You do have that baby with Mary Hawkins, who will be my great-great-great-grandfather.”

Jack didn’t see any signs of untruth or horror in Frank’s eyes anymore. He was almost sure he didn’t lie. And he did tell the truth, he allegedly had a son with Mary.

He thought about what it felt like to have fucked his relative. He didn’t care, it aroused him even more. And in fact it wasn’t his great great great … son, but Frank didn’t need to know that. The fact he was more interested that he was Claire’s husband. He once raped Claire’s first husband and now he was doing the same to her second one. It was a thought that made his blood flow into his lap again.

“Well, Frank. So you are the one Claire left to have another man? I always thought he died, but now that you’re here… You know about Jamie. You know that she loves him? Did you also know that Jamie gave me his butt to safe Claire from me ravishing her? Can you imagine what I did to him? Yes, of course you can.”

He took a step so he was standing right in front of him, his nose almost touching Frank’s. He laid his fingertips on his muscular chest and made it wander around, deeper to his belly and even deeper. He was watching the horror coming back into Frank’s eyes. His hand stopped right above the trousers.

“I didn’t just rape him, you know? I made him cooperate the way I am going to make you cooperate, too. I made his body be mine.”

His fingers went to the spot where he had branded Jamie years ago. Claire would remember it when she saw it. She would know what it meant. She couldn’t run away, Jack would always be there to show her who had won.

He left to take his seal stamp out of a bag. He took it always with him, not just for official writings but also because it reminded him of Jaime. He heated it above one of the torches until it glowed light red. Frank didn’t seem to understand what was going to happen until Jack came over to him again. He began to tremble uncontrollably, his eyes wide open in horror.

“You know she never loved you, don’t you? Claire couldn’t love anyone but Jaime. And he really is the most beautiful person in the world. But you are right behind him. She didn’t love you, but I do. You are mine and you will never forget.”

He put the hot seal stamp onto the white skin right below his chest. Frank screamed. It was a pathetic scream full of pain and terror, of resignation and losing sanity. Tears ran down Frank’s cheeks, his mouth was wide open, his wrists were shaking at the chains. It didn’t end after Jack took away the seal stamp. Then Frank’s body resigned and his muscles seemed to forget how to work. Jack hadn’t noticed he had a huge smile on his face. His initials “JR” looked most beautiful at Frank’s skin. Now he was his property. Frank would always fear him and would never again defend himself.

Frank had never felt a pain like this before. He wished he had had even more of the rum but nothing of it would have helped here. The pain of the brand didn’t go away, it felt as if the seal stamp was still on his skin. The expression of satisfaction and victory on Jack’s face made it even worse. He felt as if he didn’t have any strength in his body anymore. There was no power to resist left. He lost consciousness.

Jack released Frank from the cross. His body felt heavy and lifeless. He lay him down the floor in the middle of the room. Even though he was unconscious he still had the expression of pain and grief on his face. He opened the ribbon of his trousers and pulled them down. Even Frank’s penis looked same as his own one.

He put an old rough blanket underneath Frank’s body to hold away the cold from the floor. Then he undressed himself. There was no need to be cautious, Frank wouldn’t fight anymore. He gave him a moment of respite for his body to rest a little. He saw a single tear running from Frank’s eye and a sob escaping his throat. He wasn’t sleeping, he was having a nightmare. Poor Frank.

He gave Frank a kiss on his mouth. He felt like being Aurora. Frank opened his eyes.

The first second Frank looked confused before panic came back into his eyes. He wasn’t chained anymore, nevertheless he knew he had lost. He felt too weak to fight. He was going to cooperate to make the pain and torture stop. He still felt dizzy in his head. He leaned on his arm and wiped away a tear with the other hand.

Jack gave Frank a look of warmth. Frank was finally broken.

“I want to watch you touching yourself. “

Frank took his flabby penis into his right hand. His whole body was aching and he couldn’t imagine he would get himself hard. It didn’t make it easier that Jack was watching and forcing him. He touched his dick and moved it, but there was no pleasure. It stayed limp.

Jack took away Frank’s hand to help him. He spit into his own hand and put it on the penis. Now that it was slippery it felt better.

“Close your eyes. These are Claire’s hands. Think of Claire. Think of your wife.”

Frank couldn’t help but feel aroused. His penis grew bigger in Jack’s hand. Jack knew what he was doing, there was no doubt. Jack gave him a few moments to enjoy it until he took Frank’s hand to enjoy himself.

Jack kissed Frank’s mouth before he pushed Frank to lie on his back. He went to his head to kneel above his mouth.

Frank couldn’t help but enjoy his hands on his dick. It made him forget the pain in his body. Forget the shame. He opened his mouth willingly. The penis felt huge in his mouth, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like the taste of it. He didn’t really know what to do and just closed his lips around the tip while his hand clenched harder around his penis.

Jack pushed his dick carefully into Frank’s mouth. He had never felt that powerful before. It was an awesome feeling to be in that wet warm hole. Hearing Frank moan around his penis made himself moan, too. He took his time, he would let this take forever. He digged his hands into Frank’s hair to hold his head and put himself deeper into his mouth. He felt his tip touching the uvula. He heard Frank choke, so Jack pulled out a little. He closed his eyes, his hips riding the head faster.

Frank didn’t feel anything but the rod in his mouth and his hand hammering his own dick anymore. He didn’t know he was going to feel guilty of being aroused of the situation, that he would hate himself and that he wouldn’t be able to look into the mirror anymore. He didn’t know that Jack wouldn’t be able to look into the mirror anymore, too, because every moment he did he got reminded of this moment and got aroused again. Frank just felt his arousal growing even though the thrusting of Jack into his mouth made him a little nausea. He synchronised his rhythm of bouncing to Jack’s one. Jack moaned deeply, getting louder and faster.

Frank didn’t come. But Jack did. He pulled his dick out of Frank’s mouth and came all over his face. Frank felt the warmth and stickiness. He knew it was the moment he was waiting for. Jack had dropped all caution just for a single moment. He pushed him off himself and jumped up. Jack fell over in surprise, his penis still in his hand. Frank only took the gun and the clothes lying around and jumped to the door. Jack didn’t follow him. He wouldn’t go outside naked and unarmed. He was going to find him, later.

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother tongue. I hope you didn't mind the mistakes.


End file.
